“So it is. But it wasn’t fifteen years ago. They didn’t wear cutlasses and overhaul ships, but they knew a trick worth two of that. They seized the ship on which they sailed, repainted her, altered her appearance, gave her a new name and port, and eventually sold her to some foreigner. They, however, sailed under the black flag all the same.”
“But what do you think Bennett’s game is now?” asked Reilly.
“To get the better of you in this search. He’s evidently aware of the existence of the Italian’s treasure, and intends to have it. All I warn you of is that he’s a treacherous friend and a formidable enemy.”
“But if you assist us, captain, we need have no fear,” I remarked.
“There’s bad blood between us, doctor,” he answered dubiously. “If we met, something might happen,” he added meaningly.
“But haven’t we sufficient evidence to place before the police?” I suggested.
“How can you prove it?” he asked, settling himself seriously. “I could, of course, prove the seizing of the Maria Martin twenty years ago, but even then the case might fall through. Besides, we have no time to lose just now in the work we’ve undertaken. Again,” he added, “if we were arrested, he would most certainly declare that you were searching after treasure, and the Jew who owns the Manor House would at once put a stop to your little game, while the Treasury would keep a pretty watchful eye on you for treasure-trove. No, doctor, we must hold our tongues for the present, and pretend to know absolutely nothing.”
“But Purvis? Have you ever heard his name?”
“No. I expect, however, he’s one of the gang. Perhaps Old Mister Mystery has had something to do with the piratical crew at one time or another. That would account for his mind wandering back to Black Bennett.”
This theory seemed a sound one. It was evident that the old-man-of-the-sea entertained no very good feeling towards the man of whom he had warned us. The mystery was, however, how Purvis, Bennett, and the rest had obtained knowledge of the Italian’s hoard.